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by Stormashke



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormashke/pseuds/Stormashke
Summary: Andrea comes home from a long day to find someone has been in her apartment.





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**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This work is very like a previous work of mine Objects and Space. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks go out to JEHC and XVnot15 for encouragement and the occasional ego boost. To my very own Andy who takes great care of me daily and completely understands as I yell out once again that no I will not eat dinner until the plot bunnies have stopped eating my face! ;) And of course to my readers who are the reason I keep writing! Comments and kudos are welcome. If you love it tell me, if you hate it let me know why (respectfully of course! :)
> 
> As always I don't own our lovely ladies or anything to do with Devil Wears Prada because then I would be writing nothing and I would spend my days chasing after Miranda and Andy...Hmmm a girl can dream cant she? :)

Home

I know that you’ve been here.  I feel it in every fiber of my being.  There's a difference between walking into an apartment at the end of a busy day, and realizing no living being has been here since I left it.  There’s a stillness to it that can be quite unnerving.

Mail left exactly so on the counter, my coffee cup in the sink with the dregs still in the cup.  I never do find time to rinse my mugs since I perpetually run late in the mornings.  I have to get my jogging in before my work day begins, after all.  Usually I come home and that stillness, that emptiness, is like a shroud, but today it’s different. 

I walk in the door and I immediately know you’ve been here.  It’s not any one particular thing either.  It’s a charge in the air. Of course, whenever you’re near, there’s a charge.  You’re just a naturally electric person.  I always feel a jolt, ever since that first day when you used that deceptively soft voice to eviscerate me.   

Part of me was so annoyed with being dismissed and the other part was so turned on, I couldn’t breathe.  I had to fight back at least a little.  And though you’ve never mentioned it, I believe that’s why you sent Em after me that day.  Usually no one challenges you, and if I had actually known who I was spouting off to I probably wouldn’t have either.   

But I am oh, so glad that I did.   

I move to the sink, and sure enough…my coffee cup is washed and dry, sitting on the counter by Mr. Coffee, waiting for tomorrow.  I smile to think that you did my dishes for me.  It makes me feel…domestic.  I feel a great many things when I’m with you.  Passionate, absolutely.  Challenged, definitely.  Amused, almost always. Cared for, of course.  Loved and cherished is a given.  But not often do I feel domestic.   

Maybe it’s because we don’t spend every day together.  Our schedules don’t allow it, and neither of us is ready to make the jump to living together full-time.   

Well, that’s not entirely true.  I’d give up my apartment in a heartbeat.  But you haven’t asked, and I won’t push.  Our relationship is still new to the press and after the divorce, I refuse to put you or the girls through anymore microscopic speculation.  

So, we take our time where we find it.  I’m so very lucky to have the three of you in my life.  The girls have been accepting of us, mostly I think because you smile so much more now.  Or at least, that’s what Cassidy told me as we made s‘mores the other night.  I love that you let me spend time with the girls because I know how important they are to you.  They hold the largest part of your heart, and for you to share them means you’re letting me in. 

When we began together, after a heated exchange outside Elias Clarke of all places, I thought you would tire of me quickly.  I had nothing but myself to offer you and your girls.  I didn’t really believe I had anything to give you.  You have everything, or so it seems to the outside world. 

It turns out that appearances really can be deceiving.  You told me in great detail what exactly it was you had been missing in your life.  And you tell me daily how much you enjoy what I bring to you. 

Fun, spontaneity, security, joy and pure love.   

Your words, not mine.  It never occurred to me when we began that this would be anything more than a fling for you.  I remember how offended you got when I first voiced that opinion.  Your blue eyes opened wide and then narrowed and I fought the urge to look around and see if someone had two identical belts nearby.  Your voice, frosted and crisp, proceeded to tell me just how _idiotic_ you found that statement.   

That was the first moment I realized what this could possibly mean for both of us.  That was the first time I had thought of a possible future, and not just in terms of a single night or series of nights.   

And now you’re washing my coffee cups.  I can’t help but smile at the warm glow of the gesture.  You were here.  You spent time without me in the “depressing little shoe box” as you call my apartment.  I don’t call it home anymore because home is where you are.  You and those little twin maniacs that I love so much.   

It’s funny because I never thought much about having kids.  I always assumed it was something I would have time for later.  But now in some small part, I get to share in the joy those girls bring you.  Do you remember the Runway dinner Friday night?  You asked if I would sit with the girls because Jane wasn’t available.  We made popcorn and watched movies and ate pizza.  The girls changed into their pajamas and wanted to wait up for you.  

I knew they would fall asleep before you got home, but I let them wait anyway.  They fell asleep, snuggled against me, and I realized I hadn’t thought it through.  There was no way I could carry a sleeping 12 year old up three flights of stairs.  Let alone two of them!  I thought you were going to eviscerate me when you got home to find both girls asleep on the couch.   

Instead, you’re eyes softened as your mouth lifted in the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.  You came over to help extract me from my predicament, placed a finger over my lips and settled a blanket over the girls.  Soft kisses to their foreheads completed the ritual. 

And then you led me upstairs and showed me just how much you appreciated my filling in as a sitter.  I was so “appreciated” that walking the next day was difficult!  And then there was the blueberry pancakes on Saturday morning.  The girls literally jumped for joy as you cooked for all of us.   

Miranda Priestly, you could give Julia Child a run for her money in the kitchen.  Who knew? 

Speaking of the kitchen, now would be the time for me to call for takeout.  I’m starving and I’m _so_ not in the mood to cook.  Going over to the drawer where I keep my menus, I see a post-it note covered in distinctive red pen.  Grinning, I pull the note up to read it. 

_Andrea, I know you’re sitting there ready to order yet another portion of sodium over cellulite from that Thai place with the deplorable service.  Why you insist on eating there I’ll never know.  Jane, however, made Coq Au Vin last evening and we had far too many leftovers.  Please check the refrigerator and do actually use the stove to reheat it.  The microwave would simply destroy the texture._

_M_

I have to laugh.  What else can I do?  You came all the way across town to bring me dinner because you knew I would have a long day?  Which was probably only slightly longer than yours.  How could I not love you?  I realize how very much I miss you and suddenly it aches. 

I put the dish you’ve left into the oven and while I wait I head into my small bedroom to change.  I can smell your perfume.  You’ve been here too.  My bed is neatly made and clothes are laid out for me for morning.  How did you know I had to get up extra early tomorrow?  

I’m not at my best in the mornings and you’ve seen it for yourself. 

The one time you brought me breakfast in bed, I rolled over knocking the tray over. I thought for sure you’d give me my walking papers.  Instead you stared at me with your mouth open in shock.  Then you picked up your cell phone and dialed Emily, asking her to arrange for carpet cleaning the following day.   

As you knelt to pick up the mess, I sat there mortified.   Daring to look at you, I saw your shoulders were shaking as you cleaned the disaster on your hands and knees.  I stuttered out an apology and tried to help, but when you looked up I realized you were laughing.  So hard in fact, that you had tears running down your face.  Once we got the mess cleaned up, you took me back to bed.   

We never did get breakfast that day.  Now, you usually greet me with a soft kiss and a cup of coffee, well out of my reach, on the days where we’re together.  But today you were here when I was not, and set out my clothes to make my morning easier.  It’s such a sweet thing.  If I told Nigel he wouldn’t believe it.   

For the most part, my friends and family have been accepting.  I know Nigel teases you and Irv makes snide remarks but it doesn’t seem to matter to you.  I know that you and Nigel have grown closer again.  He says you’ve been making more of an effort with your friendship to him.   

He credits me for taming the dragon.  I let him know that you can’t tame a dragon.  You just have to let her fly.  And that’s what I try to do for you. I let you fly.  I just want you to continue to come back to me, so I try to make it as comfortable for you as possible.   That way you'll fly back to me.

Wandering into my bathroom, I see you’ve set the scene in here as well.  Candles cover every available surface and they’re obviously from the townhouse.  Even unlit, I can smell the vanilla and jasmine you prefer when you relax and pamper yourself.  You’ve also left me a supply of that new moisturizer you’ve been trying to get me to use. 

I laugh when I see another post-it note.  Picking it up, I read.

 

_Andrea,_

_I realize we have not seen each other much this week.  Please take a little time for yourself this evening and treat yourself as I would, if I was able to be there.  Is it too much to ask that you take care of yourself?  Am I reaching for the stars?  I think not.  Call me before you fall asleep.  That’s all._

_M_

Grinning, I head into the kitchen to eat the delicious meal you’ve provided.  So much better than Thai food!  I think about all you’ve done for me today and how cared-for you make me feel.  We don’t use the “L” word much.  I don’t know why, but I think it makes it all the more special when we do say it.  But even when we don’t say it…I definitely feel it.  I always feel it with you.  For you, for your girls, for your goofy St. Bernard that you insist is still a puppy, despite being seven years old and half as large as my whole apartment.   

I love you, Miranda.  I wonder if you know how much?  I’m determined that today and every day you will know. 

Later, after my bath, I slip into the silk pajamas I found under my pillow.  The ones I wear when I “sleep over” unexpectedly.  I slide into bed and turn out the lights.  I huddle under the blankets and pull out my phone.  I dial “The Dragon” which is how you’re listed in my phone.  It amuses me and drives you nuts.  But it also makes the girls laugh.   

So it stays.  The phone rings only twice and I hear your voice warm and calm, “Andrea.”  You say it as if I’m next to you beside you in your bed.   

And then I realize…at the first sound of your voice…I am home. 


End file.
